


The First Rule of Owning a Catboy Is That You Don't

by HigherMagic



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Animal Traits, Barbed Penis, Blow Jobs, Bottom Will Graham, Catboy Hannibal Lecter, Catboys & Catgirls, Creampie, Dogboys & Doggirls, Feral Behavior, M/M, Nesting, Power Bottom Will Graham, Public Display of Affection, Rimming, Rough Sex, Rough Tongue, Service Top Hannibal Lecter, Size Kink, Top Hannibal Lecter, kind of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-01
Updated: 2020-08-27
Packaged: 2021-03-05 22:48:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,989
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25643059
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HigherMagic/pseuds/HigherMagic
Summary: Will has always considered himself more of a dog person, but even the strictest of rules have exceptions.
Relationships: Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter
Comments: 173
Kudos: 1037





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into 中文-普通话 國語 available: [[中译]The First Rule of Owning a Catboy Is That You Don't 拥有猫人的第一条规矩就是你没有](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25863409) by [HayKer](https://archiveofourown.org/users/HayKer/pseuds/HayKer)



> Too many people got excited over Hannicat and, well....

Will Graham has always considered himself more of a dog person. He doesn't _dislike_ cats, not at all, but one doesn't happen to find them running around on the side of the road and easily won over with spare bites of jerky and a few soft words. And cats rarely come big enough to be used as means of defense or cuddling comfort. They're less obviously reward-based and training them is a more a matter of negotiation than he has time for, whereas his dogs are happy to do whatever he tells them in return for good food and a warm bed to sleep in.

So he has always considered himself more of a dog person.

The thing is that catboys don't particularly care what one considers themselves to be.

They'd met in Jack Crawford's office, and the instant Will walked into the room he saw the hybrid's ears twitch, his fluffy and perfectly groomed tail curling around the leg of his chair. The way he'd purred his own name on introduction, and offered a hand so soft it felt unreal, and stared at Will with pupils the size of dinner plates, well, Will knows enough about hybrids to know that they are capable of imprinting, and he could recognize the signs.

Hannibal is older, and foreign, as if the angular shape of his face, his accent, his long and narrow ears and mottled tail wasn't enough of a sign, compared to the tabbies of the continental U.S.. The most exotic hybrid Will has yet to see, before him, is a sleek little Bengal mix, all glassy eyes and thick reddish hair, slightly patchy with spots to match her ears and tail.

Will doesn't like Freddie Lounds, but he doesn't think that has anything to do with her being a cat, too.

Cat and dog hybrids are pretty common these days, as pets and labor, and some of them have independence. They're not any more or less intelligent than a human, which is proven by the fact that a lot of them choose to live the pampered life. God knows if Will could choose between paying taxes, having a mortgage, and putting up with a little bit of petting, he'd choose the latter.

But he's a human, by the grace of God and whatever else, and he has a pack of dogs he lives with, and _technically_ , he has a cat hybrid. Because hybrids pick their people, not the other way around, and Will went and got one imprinting on him on first meeting.

Hannibal is…odd. And only some of that can be blamed on his genetic makeup. But Will likes him well enough – he's intelligent and graceful and very easy to please, at least Will has had no problem pleasing him, so it hasn't been all that bad. His dogs took a liking to Hannibal, Will suspects Hannibal snuck in and fed them while he was away at some point, and Hannibal doesn't show any particular aversion to dogs aside from his need to rub his scent all over Will after Will plays with them.

So, while Will has always considered himself more of a dog person, he's not all that troubled with owning a catboy. Not that 'owning' Hannibal is the right word. Hannibal has his own home and job, a practice that he thrives in, his mental acuities just as sharp as his little needling claws and play bites.

Jack had wanted Hannibal to conduct a psychological evaluation on Will. Hannibal imprinting on him threw a wrench in that cog, which Will appreciates more than he can say, but now he has a catboy to tend to, a _friend_ who actually enjoys his company and invites him over, and Will is…well, Will is alright with that, too.

Hannibal is standing at the door when Will pulls up and parks outside his house. His ears twitch forward when Will gets out of the car, holding a bottle of wine because Hannibal likes wine and gift-giving is a common practice with hybrids. His lashes are low over his dark eyes, and he smiles warmly at Will when Will approaches.

"Good evening," he greets, all prim and proper. His tail is curled tight around his leg. He does that, Will notices, whenever Will is in the room. He steps back so Will can come inside and takes his coat, nudging his forehead against Will's shoulder as Will slides the coat off his shoulders and hands it over. Hannibal's fingers, soft and elegant, wrap around Will's wrist to hold him in place, and a gentle purr rumbles in his throat. It's like when people roll their 'R's, but farther back in his mouth. Will can feel it, when he touches Hannibal's neck.

"Hey," he replies, letting Hannibal perform his ritual of snuffling at his neck, nose dragging up the scruff on his jaw and into his hair. Hannibal is taller than him, big and strong-bodied unlike most hybrids, and takes happy advantage of that as he lips at one of Will's curls at the side of his head, nuzzling him.

Will sucks in a breath, and smells roasting meat and salt, the tang of lemon and some kind of winter vegetable. Hannibal's tail, which is thick and fluffy like a ragdoll's, though always impeccably groomed, wraps around the back of Will's thigh like another hand, tickling his fingers.

"You're just in time," Hannibal says, when he has finished his little greeting ritual. Will offers him the wine bottle and Hannibal takes it, eyes practically glowing with pleasure. "Would you like to have a seat? Or you may join me in the kitchen, and we can open this."

"I'll join you," Will replies, because he knows Hannibal prefers it when he's in the room. Predictably, Hannibal's smile widens, ears tilted forward atop his head. He nods, and Will reaches up to graze his fingers over the velveteen ridge, the _very_ small tufts right at the top. Hannibal visibly trembles when he does that.

His tail flexes, subtly nudging Will forward, and Will goes with a smile, letting himself be herded into the kitchen. Hannibal moves away from him to retrieve wine glasses and a bottle opener, expertly untwisting the golden thread around the top of the wine bottle, fitting the screw into the cork, and pulls it free.

It's a red, thick and sweet and flavored with blackberries, vanilla, and cinnamon, like a winter dessert. Will has known Hannibal long enough to know that the catboy has an unrivaled sweet tooth. He watches Hannibal pour the wine through an aerator, giving them both a generous amount before he sets the bottle down. Will comes forward and takes his offered glass, lifting it to his nose to smell as Hannibal does the same.

He takes a sip, and Hannibal purrs quietly in delight at the taste, his fingers curled elegantly around the stem.

"A fine choice," he praises quietly, after they have had their tastes. Will smiles, and comes to Hannibal, circling the island so that Hannibal can gently butt his forehead against Will's shoulder, as cats do when they are pleased.

"I'm glad you like it," he replies, lifting his free hand to gently scrape his nails against Hannibal's jaw. The effect is immediate, as Hannibal's shoulders fall several inches and he tilts his chin up, letting Will scratch at his throat and the bottom of his chin. His tail twitches wildly, trembling as cats do when they are particularly excited, ears falling to the side in lax contentment. "What are we having?"

"Pork," Hannibal replies, licking the word to the arch of Will's ear. His tongue is slightly rough, made to curl delicately around bone and strip meat from his prey. Will shivers, skin stinging as Hannibal gently kneads at Will's back with his free hand. Some catboys are declawed by their owners, removing the small do-claw at their wrist, and snipping their nails so they can't scratch. Even if Will approved of the practice, which he doesn't, he would never do that to Hannibal; he quite likes the little pinpoints of pressure Hannibal gives him whenever he makes biscuits on Will's back, or thighs, or wherever he pleases.

"Do you need help with anything?" Will asks.

"Mm. Perhaps the sauce could do with stirring," Hannibal replies, gesturing to the small pot on the stove, at a light simmer, revealing a thin red sauce that smells of sharp fruit – cranberries. Will nods, setting down his wine, and picks up the stained spoon, stirring the lining that gathered at the top as Hannibal busies himself with removing and slicing the roast. It smells fantastic, and Will smiles whenever Hannibal's tail brushes against the backs of Will's legs, as though reminding himself that Will is there.

Once that's ready, Hannibal gently noses Will to one side, pressing full-body against his flank, and bids Will sit. Will goes, wine in hand, and a moment later Hannibal emerges with two plates for them, with slices of the pork drizzled with red sauce, accompanied by buttered asparagus and a small amount of pureed carrots.

His nature gives him impeccable balance, as he holds the plates, his own wine glass, the bottle, and an extra boat of the sauce along his arms. He places them all down carefully, ears twitching in concentration, lips subtly pursed.

Once it is all placed, Hannibal settles. Unlike Will's chair, which has a solid back and is made for humans, Hannibal's has a line down the middle, so the back is split in two, to accommodate his tail, and curved to allow the lax, sprawling nature of a cat. Though, Hannibal sits perfectly straight, proper and refined as he takes his knife and fork in hand.

They eat in silence, for a while, just the gentle scraping of cutlery and occasional sip of wine breaking the quiet. Will likes silences with Hannibal – they are easy and relaxed, holding no expectation for banal conversation. Though Will knows Hannibal can talk about any subject that pleases him for hours on end, he does not force one. He never has. Will _really_ likes that about him.

When the meal is halfway through, Will clears his throat and says, "Jack wanted me to invite you to the lab, tomorrow." Hannibal's ears twitch at the sound of his voice and he gives Will a curious look. "He wants to take advantage of your sensitive nose."

Said nose wrinkles, subtly, before Hannibal schools his expression.

"You don't have to," Will adds.

"Nonsense," Hannibal replies, with a wave of his hand. "I promised Jack that I would do whatever service for the FBI I could. And it would be foolish to refuse an obvious evolutionary advantage, or begrudge Jack his desire to use that advantage."

Will considers this. "They'll have to wrap your tail," he warns. "And your ears." Hannibal's ears flatten at that, upper lip curling in a small, dissatisfied hiss that makes Will smile. "And I can't imagine how the place is going to smell."

Hannibal presses his lips together, and wets them, tongue curling at the side of his mouth. "Nevertheless," he replies, with a demure nod.

Will eyes him. "You don't have to just because I asked you to, you know that, right?" Because there is the undeniable fact that Hannibal _did_ imprint on him, and while Will never has and never will take it as far as to collar him, leash him, or order him around, Will _could_. By the very nature of Hannibal's attachment to him, Will could say 'Jump' and he might do so, because Will is his human.

Hannibal's lip twitches again. Will can see, from the corner of his eye, his tail curling around the leg of his chair, slightly ruffled. He resists the urge to stand and pet it, smoothing down the fine hairs. "I'm aware that the choice is mine," he says, eventually, and takes another drink. "But you should also be aware that I genuinely enjoy your company, Will, and if you are there, I would like to be there as well."

Will knows he cannot entirely blame the warmth in his chest on the wine, or the good food. He sits forward and takes Hannibal's hand, fingers brushing up his wrist. Hannibal's lashes lower immediately, his ears relaxing from their flattened state, a purr breaking the silence between them. "Well," Will says, "I'll make sure to make it up to you, anyway."

Hannibal's eyes flash at that, smile wide, satisfied, like – well, like a cat that got the cream. Will has resisted the urge to make those kinds of jokes, they're low-hanging fruit, but there's no other way to describe that smile.

"I'm looking forward to it," Hannibal replies, a little out of breath. It gets worse when Will takes Hannibal's limp hand and kisses it, lips brushing the very subtle covering of downy fur along his wrist. It's not visible to the human eye, not in Hannibal's shades of ash and brown, but he can feel it when he touches Hannibal's arms, and legs, and his chest. It's more visible on his chest.

Hannibal looks at him like he's a mouse ready to be lunged at, and Will lets him go. He would like to stay, but his dogs are not capable of feeding themselves, or unlocking the door to go to the bathroom. So he cannot stay, and riling Hannibal up will keep him up all night, pacing around his house and causing havoc.

He might, even, feel the need to run to Will's house and yowl until he's let inside. He's done it before. Thankfully Will is a light sleeper and is no stranger to animals waking him up in the middle of the night.

When it's time for Will to go, Hannibal nuzzles his neck and purrs for him, hands kneading plaintively at his shoulders once his coat is back in place. Will turns and runs his fingers through Hannibal's fine hair, smiling when Hannibal's tail curls around him. "I'll see you tomorrow," he promises. Hannibal smiles, and leans down, rubbing their foreheads together, their noses – finally, a kiss, that is passionate and deep and feels like it lasts for a lifetime.

Will scratches at the base of Hannibal's ears until they start to twitch against his hands, and cups his face, pulling him down to kiss his forehead when they part for air. "Be good," he murmurs, as Hannibal unwinds his tail and lets his hands drop. Hannibal's pupils are huge in his eye, have overtaken his entire iris, his lips red from Will's kiss.

"Drive safely, Will," he says with a soft trill at the back of his throat. "Please text me when you've arrived home."

"Of course," Will promises, and gives Hannibal one last affectionate scritch beneath his chin, before Hannibal finally lets him go. He lingers in the doorway until Will is in his car, and watches his departure as Will turns the corner and he disappears from sight.

Despite the fact that Hannibal was, at one point, a surgeon, and is no stranger to sterilization equipment and procedures, and despite the fact that he is perfectly capable of doing all this himself, he is undeniably much more cooperative when Will does it for him.

That isn't to say he's not still hissing with displeasure, his tail puffed up so large that Will tuts and shakes his head. "I know, I know," he says soothingly, as he circles his fingers and strokes them down Hannibal's tail, smoothing it down so he can feed the tip of it into the bag. "If you don't calm down it'll just feel worse. Come on."

"It's been a while," Hannibal says sharply. His eyes are slightly more red when he's annoyed, his pupils narrowed to pin pricks, his sharp teeth on display as Will carefully pulls the bag up his tail, making sure he doesn't trap any of Hannibal's fur the wrong way. Will wishes he didn't have to do this, he knows how uncomfortable Hannibal must be, but the fact of the matter is that hybrids shed, and the lab is a sterile location.

He secures the bag and ties the loops around Hannibal's waist, smiling when Hannibal's tail settles, twitching slightly at the tip, but otherwise he makes no move to take the thing off. Will cups his face and gently rubs at the nape of his neck, scruffing Hannibal until he relaxes somewhat.

Next, the cap. Will has no illusions about how difficult _this_ is going to be. He takes it, and the rustling of plastic makes Hannibal's ears flatten severely to his skull, his bound tail curling tightly around his leg. Will steps up to him and kisses him, distracting him for a moment, until he can fit the cap over Hannibal's hair. His flattened ears make it easier, and when he secures it over Hannibal's skull, Hannibal growls against his mouth and his entire body shudders with discomfort.

"Quick as we can, okay?" Will asks. Hannibal eyes him, annoyed and on edge. When his ears perk up again it makes the cap shift, pulling tight, but doesn't come off. He looks ridiculous, frankly, and Will bites the inside of his cheek hard so that he doesn't laugh.

Hannibal's eyes narrow accusingly. "Do you delight in my suffering?" he asks. So dramatic, just like a cat.

"Delight? No," Will replies, shaking his head. "But I'm only human."

Hannibal huffs. His claws are out, scratching petulantly in Will's clothing, catching so that he has to forcibly retract them so that he can claw again. Will rolls his eyes and smiles, thumbing at Hannibal's cheekbone.

"Would your mood be made worse if I offered you a treat?"

Hannibal's head tilts. His eyes brighten in intrigue.

Will's smile widens. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small bag of treats. He carries similar kinds for his dogs, that he makes himself, to lure them back to him when they go outside. These are made with fish, not beef like he uses with his dogs. Hannibal's nostrils flare as he opens the bag and takes one out.

Will holds it out for him to take, because Hannibal isn't really an animal and Will would never treat him like one. It comes as a surprise, then, when Hannibal takes his wrist and cradles his hand, and leans down, delicately curling his tongue around the treat and drawing it into his mouth.

He presses his cheek into Will's hand, purring softly, and Will feels his entire body brighten with affection. He scratches the nails of his free hand over the nape of Hannibal's neck and smiles when Hannibal's tail rubs against Will's thigh in answer, as Hannibal nuzzles his palm and licks the little cling of treat dust from his skin. His rough tongue makes Will shiver.

"You'll get another one when we're done," Will murmurs, when Hannibal straightens.

Hannibal's lips twitch, his brows rise. "Is that 'making it up to me'?" he asks.

Will laughs. "Of course not," he replies, gently touching Hannibal's face again. He doesn't miss how Hannibal leans into the touch, and presses closer, until there's barely an inch of space between them. "But I can't give you that kind of reward here."

"Consider my curiosity thoroughly piqued," Hannibal says.

Will can't help it, that time; "Careful. You know what they say about cats and curiosity."

Hannibal doesn't roll his eyes, but it's a close thing. "Very original."

Will grins at him, and takes his hand. "Come on, sweetheart. The sooner we get this over with the sooner you can get out of this ridiculous costume."

Hannibal nods, his fingers lacing with Will's, as they exit the bathrooms and head towards the lab. Hannibal bristles visibly as they go to the sub-level, where the first layer of the lab and morgue is. His nose twitches and his upper lip curls back, plastic covering rustling loudly as his tail thrashes behind him.

Will squeezes his hand and rubs his thumb along Hannibal's wrist. They release each other's hands as they approach the transparent wall. Through it, Will can see Jack, Beverly, Jimmy, and Brian already gathered around the corpse.

Jack notices them first, and nods in greeting. Will appreciates that none of them show amusement at Hannibal's state of dress. "Thank you for coming, Doctor Lecter," he says, ignoring Will as Will has become used to. "I was hoping you could take a look at this one for me."

"Is there anything in particular I'm looking for?" Hannibal replies, taking the pair of latex gloves Brian gives him. They're fortified around the wrists and fingertips for hybrid use, so that their claws won't break them.

Jack presses his lips together. "There's a certain anomaly in his blood," he replies, which isn't an answer. Hannibal's brows rise, but he accepts that, and steps close to the body as Jimmy and Brian make room for him.

Will watches, tense, arms folded across his chest as Hannibal leans down and takes an exaggerated inhale. He doesn't appreciate Jack exploiting Hannibal's sensitive nose like this, even if Hannibal insisted that he has no problem doing it. The scents in this place are sharp even for him, he can't imagine how harsh they are to Hannibal.

Hannibal frowns, and tilts his head. His ears twitch beneath his cap and his tail curls at the very tip, as Will has learned he does when something catches his attention. He carefully coaxes the body's head to one side and leans in closer, inhaling more deeply.

He frowns. "This man is a crossbreed," he says.

Jack and Beverly look visibly startled. "You mean he's…half hybrid?" she asks, frowning.

Hannibal nods. "Dog, I believe," he confirms. He thumbs, gently, at the man's lips, parting them until his mouth opens wide. He gestures for them to have a closer look, and even Will leans in as he sees what Hannibal is looking at – there is a subtle bulge in his gums, swollen around each canine.

"I didn't know hybrids and humans _could_ crossbreed," Beverly says softly. She takes a scalpel and makes a small incision around the bulge, and peels the flesh apart to reveal a perfectly formed, large tooth, similar to that of a dogboy.

"I've seen it a few times," Hannibal says, drawing back. "Generally, the human DNA wins out. Crossbreeds may have stunted, vestigial tails, and additional teeth, but other than that they rarely inherit their more animal counterparts." He pauses, and adds; "That may explain the anomaly."

Jack nods, his expression stern. "And it gives us a lead," he says, looking at Will, who nods in agreement. The next of kin of this man gave no indication that crossbreeding had happened, which means they had lied, or they didn't know. If they did know, it might have been enough to kill over. "Thank you, Hannibal. That's all for now."

Hannibal dips his head and Will takes his hand, leading him from the room.

"Will," Jack calls, halting him in place. "I still need you."

"It can wait," Will replies. "I'm taking Hannibal home."

Hannibal smiles, visibly pleased by that, his lashes low as he nudges his forehead to Will's cheek. Jack sighs, and waves him away, and Will takes him back to the bathrooms.

"Let me," he murmurs, and takes the cap off, first. Immediately, Hannibal shakes his head vigorously, back arching as the motion travels all the way down his spine. Will smiles, and pets his soft ears with a gentle touch as Hannibal nuzzles him, licking at his neck. Then, he unties the strings from around Hannibal's waist and turns him, gently peeling the tail cover off. Hannibal's fur is a mess, underneath, covered in static. Will throws the equipment away and immediately pets Hannibal's tail, correcting each strand as Hannibal busies himself licking his palms and smoothing his ears and hair, correcting the flattened tufts until he deems himself presentable.

Will smiles, and scritches his chin, pleased when Hannibal purrs and rubs up against him, likely to get rid of the chemical scents from Will's clothes and replace it with his own. "You ready to go?" he asks.

Hannibal nods into his neck, purring loudly. "Yes, please."

Will takes his hands, lacing their fingers together, and leaves with Hannibal close to heel.

Will's house is closer, so he drives them there. Hannibal, for the most part, behaves himself, though he keeps pulling Will's hand to his head and rubbing himself all over until Will relents and pets him. Will doesn't mind – he likes it when Hannibal is affectionate. It's harder to recognize the signs of trust in cats, and learning Hannibal's signals and behavior was a crash course in catboy behavior, especially with his independence and oddities, but he knows them now.

Will has two beds, in his house. The first is on the ground floor in the living room, where his dogs sleep, because he likes being close to the door in case of emergencies and there isn't enough room for all of them upstairs. The second is on the second floor, in a plain room where he keeps his clothes and has a spare mattress in an actual bedframe.

Hannibal quickly made it into his nest, when Will first took him here.

They go upstairs and Hannibal immediately flattens himself on the nest, shoes shed by the door. He stretches out onto his back in the wide patch of sunlight coming in through the window, purring loudly. Will smiles at him, and takes off his shoes and jacket, leaving them in a pile by the door.

"Are you hungry?" he asks as he approaches the bed.

Hannibal gives him a look, and wets his lips. "No," he replies, in a tone that forbids Will leaving. Will laughs as Hannibal pulls him into the nest, over the wide lip at the edge of the mattress. The air is stiflingly warm in this room, and with Hannibal as a living heat furnace against him, Will quickly starts to sweat.

Hannibal likes it when he sweats. He rubs his cheek against Will's, pawing at his shoulders and flanks, his tail ruffled up and wrapping around Will's thigh. Hannibal's tail is long enough to brush the floor even at his height, and strong enough to grip at Will and push at his legs until he parts them over Hannibal's thighs and settles.

Will leans down, smoothing Hannibal's hair back from his face. Hannibal leans up, catching his mouth in another deep kiss as Will pets him, every inch of him practically vibrating with pleasure. Will kisses him again, hands running down Hannibal's broad chest, until he reaches where his shirt is tucked into his suit pants, until he can feel the growing bulge of Hannibal's cock against his hand.

"Be good," Will murmurs, pressing the words to his neck. Hannibal shivers, and purrs in answer.

Will slides back, unbuttoning and unzipping his clothes and pushing the shirt up out of the way. Will has only had experience with one hybrid in his life, so he's not sure if this is a catboy thing or a Hannibal thing, but he's heard stories. From housewives and other owners, about their dogboys' knots and the barbs on a cat's cock. Hannibal's cock is long and thick, slightly tapered at the tip, without the normal flared head of a human, and, mercifully, doesn't have barbs.

But he does have small bumps, like those on a ribbed condom. They don't tear, but Will certainly feels them whenever Hannibal is inside him.

He leans down and sucks Hannibal's tip into his mouth, earning a quiet, frantic noise wrenched deep from Hannibal's throat. He looks up to find Hannibal watching him, ears forward, lips parted and cheeks darkly flushed. His pupils are so wide, making his entire iris appear black. Hannibal is looking at Will like _that_ again, like Will is a mouse Hannibal wants nothing more than to pin and devour.

Hannibal's hands curl in Will's hair, insistently urging him to take more. Will does, sighing as each bump meets his lips, bruising them as he takes Hannibal in. He flattens his hands on the bed on either side of Hannibal's hips, relaxes his throat so he can take more. He loves doing this for Hannibal, loves rendering him from that calm, aloof persona to something more animal.

" _Will_ ," Hannibal breathes, groans as Will's throat clenches around the tip of his cock. He can't take all of Hannibal down, not yet, not when those bumps make it so difficult, but Hannibal has never seemed to mind. He lifts his hips as Will grips his clothes, pulling them down to his knees, careful with the fastening around his tail so that he doesn't pinch anything. Hannibal curls his hips up, moaning loudly when Will wraps his fingers around the base of his tail, which starts right as his spine ends, and strokes the silky soft fur to the same rhythm he moves his head, fucking his throat down onto Hannibal's cock. " _Will_ , Will, Will…."

It's immensely gratifying, knowing how verbally capable Hannibal is, to reduce him to nothing more than sounds of pleasure and Will's own name.

Will pulls off when he sees Hannibal's stomach tensing, breathing hard, spit connecting his mouth to the tip of Hannibal's cock before he licks his lips, and the string breaks. He meets Hannibal's eyes. "Do you want to finish in my mouth, or inside me?"

Hannibal's pupils go even wider, if that's possible. He surges upright and kisses Will fiercely. "Inside," he gasps, begs, _whines_ when Will smiles. "Inside you, Will, _please_."

Will nips his lower lip and shivers when Hannibal's tongue curls up, catching the corner of his mouth. "Clothes off, then," he murmurs. Hannibal nods frantically, pawing at Will's shirt as though he intends to rip it off. Will might let him – he knows Hannibal judges his fashion sense and abhors the coarse fabric. But Hannibal is a good little kitten, and doesn't assume he can disrespect Will's belongings unless Will says he can.

As Hannibal mewls and nuzzles each inch of newly exposed skin, Will unbuttons Hannibal's shirt and pushes it off his shoulders. The cuffs catch on his do-claw and Hannibal snarls, tearing them off and throwing the shirt to the floor. His ears flatten when he finds that Will is still far too clothed, and hisses at Will's amused look.

"Lie back," he commands. Will obeys, sighing as Hannibal plasters himself over Will's body, kneading and licking and _purring_ nonstop. Hannibal pulls his shirt over his head and tugs on Will's slacks, kicking off his own, until they're both naked. His cock is leaking and he grabs Will's ass and rubs insistently against Will, their erections slick together, trapped between their sweaty bodies.

Will grabs Hannibal by the scruff of his neck and kisses him when Hannibal yowls in complaint. "Shh," he whispers. "Patience."

"I admit my species has a reputation for being patient hunters," Hannibal replies, _petulant_ , "but you test every ounce of it I have."

Will laughs, at that. He runs his nails down Hannibal's arching spine and slides his fingers through the ruffled fur surrounding the base of his tail. "I want your mouth," he says, when Hannibal sighs and nuzzles his neck again. "Get me ready."

Hannibal's ears swivel forward, at that, his hips arching up into Will's scratching nails. He slides down between Will's legs and meets his eyes with a fervent gaze. Will likes this part, more than he thought he would – when Hannibal's upper lip twitches, showing those delightfully sharp fangs. When he cups Will's ass and _lifts_ him. When he lowers his mouth and licks, brazen and hot, over Will's hole.

Will groans, tipping his head back, one hand idly stroking his cock as Hannibal's tongue laves at him, rough on the top but _silky_ everywhere else. It's a gentle burn that builds and builds and gets Will sensitive so that every bump on Hannibal's cock electrifies him.

Before Hannibal, Will never entertained the idea of fucking a hybrid, but God _damn_ does Hannibal make a compelling case. His claws leave little red spots on Will's thighs as Hannibal flattens him and pushes them up, curling Will in on himself so he can make more room. All Will can see is his hair and his ears, which tickle the backs of his thighs as Hannibal forces his tongue inside.

He moans, breathlessly, and reaches down with his free hand to fist the hair between Hannibal's ears. It's as soft as the rest of his fur, fine and ashen, and Hannibal _growls_ when Will does it, when he brushes his thumb up the edge of one ear, making it twitch. When Will shivers and spreads himself out wider as Hannibal forces his tongue inside Will and gets him wet.

Will lets out a soft, needy sound as Hannibal tilts his head and releases one of his thighs, one finger pressing against his rim. Hannibal is almost obsessively careful about this part, too aware of how sharp his claws are. There's enough saliva that Will is dripping with it, staining the nest below them.

"I'm good," Will whispers, petting his hair. "You're good, it's okay."

Hannibal purrs for him, and slides a finger inside, immediately twisting and curling it up so he can nudge Will's prostate. Will clenches immediately, gasping as the first insistent wave starts, from deep in his stomach and ending with his cock twitching and leaking in his hand. Hannibal does it again, making Will's toes curl as he licks around his finger, and eases in a second, putting more pressure on his prostate as Hannibal nuzzles his balls and soaks his rim with more saliva.

" _Fuck_ ," Will breathes, panting now. "Okay – yeah, okay, you're good."

Hannibal lifts his head, smug and fine as always, even with his hair all in disarray, his cheeks and mouth red, his eyes black, his tail trembling violently where it's curled around their thighs. "Are you sure?" he taunts. "I'm enjoying myself." He tilts his head and sets his teeth to the tense muscle of Will's inner thigh, fangs sharp as he nips playfully at sweaty skin.

Will grits his teeth. "I swear to God, Hannibal, I _will_ make you sleep with the fucking dogs."

Hannibal laughs, ears twitching with smug pleasure. He withdraws his fingers slow as melting ice and lowers Will back to the bed. Despite his calm tone of voice, he's clearly excited, shining with sweat and vibrating with anticipation. His thighs spread out beneath Will's, hips rocking subtly as he prepares himself to lunge.

Will reaches for him and pulls him in by the scruff of his neck, flattening Hannibal over his body. He releases his cock and licks his palm, wrapping it around Hannibal's. Though Hannibal needs no help – catboys leak enough for penetration on their own.

Hannibal kisses him, deeply, tongue curling behind Will's teeth as he positions himself. This part, Will can't rush. He's tried, but Hannibal is immovable when he wants to be. One doesn't _force_ a cat to do anything.

His hands, so soft and warm, slide down Will's flanks, and tilt his hips up. His shoulders bear Will's legs, folding him in half. His mouth opens wide on Will's neck so that Will's first cry is loud and unhinged when Hannibal slides the tip of his cock between Will's thighs, finds, locks, and pushes in.

Despite his size, the taper at the tip and the slick lets him push in easily. Will shudders, gripping Hannibal's hair tightly as he feels each tiny bump drag at his rim, and then over his prostate, like dozens of tiny pressure points. And then, an inch from the very base, a single subtle flare that is his widest point, that slips into Will like a fist and makes him _moan_.

It butts up right against his prostate and Will closes his eyes, and tilts his head back so Hannibal can nuzzle and nip at his throat to his heart's content.

Hannibal is purring, and Will can feel it everywhere their bodies are connected. Hannibal doesn't wait, doesn't hesitate when he receives no protest; he grips Will's hips and rolls his own back, fucking in again. Will feels every inch in his throat and every bump down to his fucking toes and he knows he's being loud, much louder than he's ever been with human lovers.

Hannibal loves it, though – he once told Will that catboys, like their namesake, can communicate on frequencies imperceptible to the human ear. When Will is loud, it's because he wants Hannibal to hear him, and Hannibal finds that thought _immensely_ satisfying.

Hannibal builds up a rhythm quickly, no hesitation, graceful and capable down to his bones. He lifts his head and nudges their foreheads together, devouring Will's noises as Will kisses him, grabbing frantically at his hair and shoulders. " _Hannibal_ ," he gasps, half a warning.

Hannibal's lashes flutter, and he swallows harshly. Close as they are, Will has nowhere else to look but his eyes, which shine in the sunlight and look more amber. "Yes," he purrs, forgoing one hand on Will's hip to cup the back of his neck as well. The instinct to scruff a female is one he shares with his animal counterpart and Will _loves_ the feeling of Hannibal's nails in his neck. The fantasy of being held down and mounted is one they've sated together, many times, and it never fails to throw Will right to the edge of orgasm. "Yes, Will. Don't hold back."

Will couldn't if he wanted to. Every part of him is screaming to finish. He kisses Hannibal and grabs his boy by his mane, shuddering and going stiff as he comes. Hannibal lets out the most primally satisfied noise, slowing so he can relish Will tightening around him, overstimulated muscles spasming in rhythm as Hannibal presses deep and rubs the ridge of his cock against Will's prostate.

Will can't catch any breath Hannibal doesn't feed him, as Hannibal kisses him and drags his rough tongue over Will's, across his lower lip.

" _Fuck_ ," Will whispers, gasping, as Hannibal continues to rut, lashes fluttering closed over his dark eyes. "Fuck, Hannibal, that's it. Good boy." His hands go gentle, rubbing up Hannibal's back as Hannibal snarls, baring his fangs against Will's jaw. He jerks back, swollen base slipping out of Will and shoving back in, making both of them tremble.

Hannibal rears up and coaxes Will's legs to one side, so that Will is partially turned to one side and Hannibal can pin him down. He spreads his thighs, ruts in, grunting like a Goddamn animal until, suddenly, he goes still, and blows out a heavy breath.

He prowls over Will and nuzzles him, nipping at his sweat-soaked hair and his flushed neck. Every twitch of Hannibal's cock inside Will sense another flicker of sensation up his spine, sparking aftershocks with every nudge against his prostate and sore rim.

Hannibal is tactile as ever, his soft hands stroking Will's chest, his nipples, his tense belly, his thighs. He nuzzles Will's neck and shoulder, smiling as they both catch their breath. Will lifts a hand for Hannibal to nudge his head against, ears low and relaxed, and Will smiles as Hannibal's fluffy tail drapes itself over their legs as they entwine.

Hannibal pulls out of him a while later, and Will shivers, sensitive and sore and dripping come. He turns onto his back and Hannibal happily drapes himself over Will, with enough force that Will huffs, and grins as Hannibal rubs himself all over Will, purring loudly.

"I adore you, Will," Hannibal breathes. Will's chest grows warm at the declaration and Hannibal lets out a happy trill, nudging his nose at Will's shoulder.

Will scritches his chin as Hannibal butts his forehead against Will's jaw, and kisses him. His mouth is sore from Hannibal's tongue, tingling pleasantly just like the rest of him. "Glad you went to the lab now?"

"I would have gone either way," Hannibal replies lightly. Then, with a wide smile, he adds; "Though perhaps I should implore Jack to hire me full time."

Will rolls his eyes. "You're terrible," he says, soft with affection.

Hannibal's lashes lower and he places a kiss to Will's lips, still petting him, as though Will is the hybrid that craves so much touch. Will doesn't mind it in the slightest. He cups Hannibal's face and brings him down so he can kiss his forehead, smiling when Hannibal's entire body trembles and his tail gives a happy little flick against Will's knee.

Will ends up cradled in Hannibal's arms, letting the catboy nuzzle and touch him to his heart's content. He closes his eyes, sighing, and lets himself relax and bask in the warm nest.

He's always considered himself more of a dog person, but even the strictest of rules have exceptions.


	2. Chapter 2

Will has no real reason to be protective of Hannibal. He tells himself that, what feels like every damn day. Hannibal is older than him, and he's far from dependent. He has his own house and his own job, which he thrives in, and he's wealthy and takes very good care of himself.

Beyond that, Will knows that Hannibal wouldn't do something he didn't want to do. No one forces a cat to do anything, and certainly not Will. Even though, technically, Hannibal belongs to him, and they had to go through all the paperwork and bullshit when Hannibal imprinted on him, Will made no move to tie their assets together or take over Hannibal's property or belongings.

He doesn't act like Hannibal's Owner because he isn't Hannibal's Owner. He's not sure what to call himself, when it comes to Hannibal, but it's not something as direct and distasteful as ownership.

Still, sometimes he wishes it was as simple as that.

"You seem troubled."

Hannibal's voice is low, from the ground floor. Will is on the landing that stretches around two sides of it, pacing, thumb dragging absently along the spines of the thick books. Will stops, and looks down at him. Hannibal meets his gaze steadily, ears perked up and forward, attentive, tail flicking lazily from side to side between his ankles. He looks amused. He often looks amused.

"Do I?" Will snaps, and narrows his eyes when Hannibal merely smiles.

"Yes," he replies coolly. His head tilts, and he approaches the ladder leading up to the second floor. His hand rests upon it, and Will has no doubt he'll launch himself up if Will remains up here. "Come down from there, Will."

Will huffs. "Shouldn't I be telling you that?"

Hannibal grins at him. "The next time I'm stuck in a tree," he teases, and the joke is startling enough that Will can't help laughing, black mood momentarily gone. He sighs, and rubs his hands over his face, before making his way back to the ladder. The instant his feet touch the floor, Hannibal has his cheek on Will's shoulder, purring softly.

Will turns, putting his hand on Hannibal's head and giving him an absentminded scritch behind the ear, which makes his tail twitch and wrap insistently around Will's knee. Hannibal nudges his nose against Will's cheek and Will can see him smile. "Would you like to talk about it?"

Will sighs. "I'm sure you already know."

"Mm. But it would be more cathartic for you to tell me yourself."

Will rolls his eyes, pulling away from Hannibal and heading back towards the two chairs seated in the middle of the room, facing each other. Whenever Will shows up, Hannibal pushes the chairs as close as physically possible. He'd probably sit in Will's lap if Will let him.

"It's Jack," Will says, settling with a sigh. Hannibal's tail twitches at the name, but he doesn't make a sound. He gravitates towards Will, fingers brushing the back of his chair. His tail nudges Will's hands and Will sits back, tidying the long, fine hairs as Hannibal stands behind him.

"What about Jack?" Hannibal asks.

Will looks up at him, tilting his head back so he can rest against the chair. "He was really impressed with you at the lab," he says. Hannibal's lips twitch at the corners, subtly preening. "He wants to know if you'd be willing to come on as a full-time consultant."

Hannibal's head tilts. "And that…upsets you," he says slowly.

Will winces. "Well, more like he wants _me_ to convince you to come on full time." Hannibal hums, and Will sighs, looking back down at the tail in his lap. He brushes his fingers over it, admiring the softness, gripping gently until he can feel the delicate bones beneath. "I just know how miserable you were last time, and I also know that you'd pretty much do whatever I asked you to, so it's…."

"Put you in a difficult position," Hannibal finishes for him. Will nods, and tilts his head up as Hannibal perches on the arm of his chair. He might get that lap-sit after all. He sits back, just in case. Hannibal's tail is long, but not quite long enough for him to wrap it around the entire back of the chair, so he pulls it from Will's lap and kneads at Will's shoulder instead.

Will clenches his jaw and stares down at his hands. "Jack knows that we're…connected," he says, hesitating on the word. "I don't appreciate him using me as a proxy. You're perfectly capable of deciding for yourself if you want to help or not."

"That's true," Hannibal concedes. "Which means he must anticipate some resistance, on my part. Whatever gave him that idea?"

"It wasn't me," Will insists.

Hannibal hums. He leans down and nudges his forehead to Will's hair, nuzzles his ear and eases Will back against the chair. Before Will can do anything except let him, Hannibal slides off the arm of the chair and to his feet. He walks away from Will, towards the liquor cabinet, and opens it, pouring them two glasses of – not wine, but not whiskey either. Whatever it is, it's potent and Will can smell it all the way across the room.

Hannibal brings it back, handing Will his glass, and wraps his tail around Will's forearm as Will takes a sip. Hannibal sits in his own chair, close enough that their knees are practically interlocked like teeth of a zipper. "Would it bother you if I was there all the time?" Hannibal asks, without inflection.

Will considers the question. "No," he finally says, and takes a drink.

Hannibal's ears twitch, lax on top of his head. The fur on them, and his hair, looks thicker today. Will hasn't known him long enough to know if he gets a winter coat. The thought makes him smile, of Hannibal having a baby bird mop of hair, his tail fluffing up, the soft downy fur on his skin getting thick enough to see. Probably not that bad, but it's an entertaining image.

"So your reluctance is purely from the fact that Jack considers me a secondary player in my own future," Hannibal says.

"I don't think it's that malicious," Will replies. "He probably just assumes I have a better hope of convincing you than he can. And I know _why_ he thinks that, and I guess that reminder makes me uncomfortable."

Hannibal considers him, his eyes dark, reflecting the amber color of the drink he's cradling with both hands. "But not the idea of working with me," he presses.

Will frowns. "Of course not," he says. "If I didn't like having you around I wouldn't have you around."

Hannibal's lips twitch, at that, but he looks very pleased by Will's answer. "That's reassuring," he says, and takes a sip from his drink. He looks up, towards the second floor. "Do you know what I'd be doing for dear uncle Jack?"

"Probably sniffing more dead bodies," Will replies wryly, grinning when Hannibal's nose wrinkles in distaste. "But he might ask you to come along profiling, too, given that you're a psychiatrist and all." Hannibal's eyes brighten with intrigue. "So you might get to see some live kills."

Hannibal's tail curls up a little tighter around Will's arm, a shiver running up it. Will arches a brow and Hannibal clears his throat, momentarily breaking gazes with Will. "Cats like hunting," he says, and Will senses that's the only explanation he's going to get.

"Like I said, I have no problem with you coming with me," Will murmurs, leaning forward and putting his hand over one of Hannibal's. His skin is soft, and Will smiles when he runs his fingers up Hannibal's wrist, to the little claw on the inside that makes Hannibal twitch when he touches it. "I just didn't want you to feel obligated, or…anything like that."

Hannibal sets his glass to one side, on the table forming the tip of the triangle of their chairs, and takes Will's glass from him as well, setting it down beside. "Will," he purrs, nudging their foreheads together, his hands sliding up Will's arms as he pushes himself closer until he's practically in Will's lap. Will huffs, shifting his stance to accommodate the extra weight on his knees, smiling when Hannibal nuzzles his shoulder and neck, tail wrapping around Will's arm and squeezing. "I want to be around you all the time."

Will smiles, warm with affection as he hears Hannibal purring, kneading at his shoulders. "Yeah, I'm getting that."

Hannibal huffs, and nips Will's neck. "I suppose I should discuss the particulars with Jack," he says. "That way you don't have to feel responsible."

Will presses his lips together, scratching gently at the base of Hannibal's spine, making him arch up and purr. "I appreciate it," he says, because he does – honestly. He doesn't like the reminder that Hannibal is essentially his property and if Will decided to make Hannibal do something, there's not much he could legally do to fight back.

Hannibal is still purring, and Will turns his head so Hannibal can shove his head against Will's jaw, and he melts on top of Will, heavy and warm, when Will rubs his hand over the back of Hannibal's neck and up through his hair. It's nice, having Hannibal lax in his arms, even if he is very heavy and a little forceful with his headbutts and nuzzling.

Hannibal settles, a moment later, lashes low over his dark eyes as Will finds a good spot at the base of his ears and rubs over it, his tail twitching and puffed up. He's going to be up all night, Will thinks to himself with a mental roll of his eyes. If he and Hannibal don't end up spending the night together, Will is sure there's going to be some midnight scratching at the door in his future.

"Do you have any other patients today?" Will asks.

Hannibal sighs. "Unfortunately, yes," he replies, petulantly. Will can't imagine how keyed up he's going to be, pacing and twitching in his seat while his patient waxes on. "Thankfully, not one who is too overbearing."

Will smiles. Even if Hannibal outright hated one of his patients, he's a professional. Still, it's fun to imagine Hannibal's ears flat to his skull, tail puffed up, showing his fangs and claws like he does whenever he gets mad.

Will turns his head, cups Hannibal's cheek, and kisses him. "I can wait up for you, if you want."

Hannibal smiles at him, lashes low, and leans in for another kiss. This one, longer until Will's tongue is sore from the rough side of Hannibal's, and his lips sting. Hannibal's nails dig into Will's shoulders, kneading him plaintively, arching closer.

"There's no need," Hannibal replies, eventually, when they're both breathless and Hannibal has that redder sheen in his eyes he gets whenever Will is near him. His words bely the frantic purr and the borderline scandalous way he's rubbing against Will.

Will clenches his jaw, forcing himself not to react. Hannibal's nostrils flare, and his purr, for a moment, gets louder. Will scruffs him gently, a warning more playful than serious, and Hannibal melts against him again, growling low into Will's neck.

"Will," he complains, one hand dragging down Will's tense stomach. "Let me."

Will sucks in a breath, clenching his eyes tightly shut and burying his face in Hannibal's hair. Hannibal's ear twitches against his nose and Will resists the urge to bite it. Hannibal enjoys the occasional playful nip, but Will isn't sure he'd manage to keep it light, as Hannibal's fingers worm skillfully between his thighs, putting pressure on the line of his cock.

"You have a patient," he reminds Hannibal, even as Hannibal arches against him and smiles against Will's blushing cheek.

"He can wait," he whispers. "And this won't take long, I promise."

Will chokes on a breath as Hannibal kisses him, purring and arching up into Will's hands as Will grabs his shoulders and holds on for dear life. Hannibal's claws catch on the button of his slacks, pulls it free, and slowly coaxes the zipper down.

Hannibal licks behind Will's teeth and shows his own fangs. He slides back on Will's knees, and sinks to the floor between Will's feet. Will can't look away as Hannibal lowers his head, coaxing Will out with his soft hands, and drags his parted lips up the shaft. He's delicate with his tongue, aware that the rough edge on a place so sensitive won't be pleasant for Will. Still, it catches occasionally, right at the head of Will's cock, and Will whines, gritting his teeth and swallowing his moan as best he can.

Hannibal laughs, a soft and throaty thing, wrapping his fingers around Will and stroking him as he pulls his tongue back and kisses, wide and wet, the shaft of Will's cock. His fangs are another threat, but he's careful with those, too, and Will never feels them when Hannibal takes him in.

Which he does, right to the root with no warning or hesitation, in order to spare Will the rough side of his tongue. Will groans, bowing over Hannibal as his cheeks hollow and he sucks, letting his throat clench around Will's cockhead as he massages the base of Will's cock with his fingers.

" _Fuck_ ," Will whispers, pawing at Hannibal's head. His nape, his shoulders, his hair. Gentler on his ears, but still tugging enough to make Hannibal purr for him. The _purr_ , that's what makes this fucking amazing. Like sinking his cock into a wet, hot, vibrating toy. Hannibal's throat tightens and the sensation travels all the way down Will's cock, he can't escape it.

He ruts into Hannibal's mouth, panting heavily, warm everywhere. He cups Hannibal's ears and sinks his fingers into Hannibal's hair, thighs shaking and trying to pull together.

Hannibal's purr gets louder, and he slides the soft, slick side of his tongue up Will's cock as he lets Will use his mouth as a sheath, combining just the perfect amount of friction with the vibrations. Hannibal was right – Will never lasts long when Hannibal does this.

He bites his knuckles hard enough to threaten breaking skin as he comes. Hannibal stops purring so that he can swallow, flattening his hands on Will's thighs as Will floods his throat. He pulls off with a single, delicate kitten lick along the slit of Will's cock, so sensitive that the rough edge of his tongue is like a lightning strike.

Will flinches, breathing hard as Hannibal tucks him back in and slides his way into Will's lap. He nuzzles Will's open mouth and kisses him, grinning and satisfied. The cat that got the fucking cream, literally. Will doesn't have enough brain cells to rub together for that joke, but he's sure Hannibal is laughing to himself about it anyway.

Will closes his eyes and cups Hannibal's cheek, thumb at the red corner of his mouth. "You wanna mount me, sweetheart?" he asks.

Hannibal's pupils flare out wide, and he shivers, tail trembling with excitement. "Yes," he admits. "But _that_ , unfortunately, we don't have time for."

Will sighs, and nods. It feels kind of cheap to offer Hannibal a treat for sucking him off, but he does it anyway. Hannibal's lips quirk up with amusement as he takes it from Will's hand.

Hannibal does let him up, eventually, when he can't put it off a moment more. Will watches him lick his fingers and smooth down his ruffled fur, and run his hands through his hair. Will finishes his drink and stands, smiling when Hannibal immediately comes to him again and wraps his tail around Will's thigh.

"Tomorrow?" he whispers.

Will nods, and kisses his forehead. "Be good," he murmurs. Hannibal smiles widely.

Will's prediction ends up coming true. At two in the morning, he hears the rumble of a car approaching, and smiles to himself. He wonders if Hannibal will even try the door before he starts crying for Will. It's not locked, but sometimes Hannibal forgets that he has opposable thumbs.

He hears the engine go silent. Hears a door open and close, and then rushed steps across the grass, up the stairs, onto the porch. A few of his dogs stir at the noise, woofing curiously. They're used to Hannibal's impromptu visits by now, and know that not every nighttime visitor is a threat.

Will turns over so he can see the door. Watches, as a shadow crosses it, and then there's a tiny scratching sound at shoulder height. Will rolls his eyes, and pushes himself to his feet when he hears the little plaintive mewl coming from the other side.

"Honestly," he mutters, opening the door. "You know you can just come in, right?"

Hannibal lunges for him, snuffling at Will's neck as Will smiles and pushes at his coat. "That would be impolite," Hannibal replies, muffled on Will's jaw. Will manages to get Hannibal out of his coat and hangs it up, which is very difficult to do in the dark with a giant catboy rubbing all over him, trying to cover Will's scent with his own.

"More polite than yowling at my door," Will says. Hannibal merely huffs, rubbing his cheek over Will's as the dogs realize who, exactly, is here, and settle back down. Hannibal managed to get home and change, apparently – he's not wearing the same suit he was earlier in his office. Instead, he has a sweater, black, bunched up at the elbows, and black suit pants with the customary ties in the back to accommodate for his tail.

"I did not _yowl_ ," Hannibal says, offended.

Will smiles, finally having enough of Hannibal basically trying to nuzzle him into submission. He wraps his fingers in Hannibal's hair and leads him back to bed, settling down on the blankets he threw back. Hannibal purrs loudly, happily rubbing his face over Will's shoulder as Will pets him.

"Couldn't sleep?" Will guesses, when Hannibal finally settles. He's on his back, Hannibal plastered to his side, cheek on his shoulder and one leg slung over Will's, tail resting on top and tickling Will's calf muscle.

Hannibal makes a quiet, disgruntled noise, ears going low. "No," he replies. "But I spoke with Jack."

Will presses his lips together, fingers still combing through Hannibal's hair, careful with the sensitive base of his ears. He doesn't need Hannibal riled up all night, otherwise neither of them will get any sleep. Instead, he rubs his thumb up the ridge of Hannibal's ear, smiling when a small tremor runs down his back.

"What did he say?"

Hannibal shifts his weight, wrapping an arm around Will's waist. "You were correct in your assumptions," he replies. "He wants me to assist with autopsies, and accompany you both to crime scenes if a hybrid was suspected or involved."

Will frowns. "That's all?" he asks.

"Were you expecting more?"

"I don't know what I expected," Will says honestly. "But Jack's a little less…clear-cut with boundaries, normally."

"With you," Hannibal says. It's not a judgement, but it's also not a lie. Will winces, and responds with a vague noise. Hannibal lifts his head and sets his chin on Will's chest, making their eyes meet. "I could probably say something. Cite my distress at having my human abused right in front of me."

Will clears his throat, looking up to the ceiling. "Don't make jokes like that," he murmurs. "Jack doesn't abuse me. And I'm not…."

He trails off. Not Hannibal's owner. Not his human in the way people think he is.

Hannibal rises, bracing himself at Will's side, and nuzzles him. "I apologize," he says. Will doesn't know which thing he's apologizing for. Probably neither, truth be told. Not genuinely. Hannibal's tail uncurls from around Will's leg and settles behind him. "You know your relationship with Jack better than I do."

Will knows he's being baited, so he doesn't rise to it. He rolls onto his side and smooths Hannibal's hair back from his forehead. "You good to sleep?" he asks. Hannibal's eyes are dark, pupils huge. He presses his lips together and nudges his nose against Will's, breathing him in.

"I think I'll stay up a while longer," he says. "But you can sleep."

Will knows better than to argue. And he's tired. Hannibal wraps himself around Will and purrs gently, and Will falls asleep to the delicate kneading at his back and the occasional brush of Hannibal's tail behind his knees.

Will wakes up warm, and weighted down by Hannibal's giant body, pinning him to his mattress. He grunts, and Hannibal moves immediately, nuzzling the nape of his neck and purring loudly. Will ended up on his stomach at some time in the night, and now Hannibal's tail rubs up and down his thigh, his hands spreading down Will's arms as Will turns his head so Hannibal can kiss him.

Hannibal shed his clothes, at some point, so there's nothing but Will's clothes separating their bodies. Hannibal is hard and leaking already, damp against Will's underwear. Will presses his lips together, swallowing a moan as his morning wood is pressed to the mattress.

"Hannibal," he complains, "I have to use the bathroom."

Hannibal's ear twitches against the nape of his neck as he rubs his cheek against Will's shoulder. He sighs, as though Will's bodily functions are the most inconvenient thing in the world. Dramatic cat. Hannibal pushes himself up and lets Will go, rolling onto his back. Will rises, and stops, lips parting in a soft gasp as he gets a look at Hannibal.

All sprawled out on his bed, tanned and muscled and _gorgeous_. His leaking cock leaves a smear on his belly, through the trail of hair, his tail puffed up and curling, ears flat to his skull as he wraps his hand around his cock and gives himself a teasing stroke.

Hannibal shows his teeth. "Hurry back," he purrs. Will swallows, and goes, willing his erection away so that he can use the bathroom. It takes longer than he'd care to admit, knowing Hannibal is out there, waiting for him. He flushes, washes his hands, runs his fingers through his hair to try and calm it from the unkempt mane it took in the night.

He knows it's useless. Hannibal's going to just make another mess of him.

He returns to his living room to find that Hannibal hasn't moved, is still stroking himself, his hand wet from the natural slick catboys make to help them mount and breed. He has such a pretty blush on his face, staining his neck.

Will pulls his shirt over his head and lets it drop. "Want me to return the favor?" he asks, kneeling beside Hannibal.

"No," Hannibal snaps, and yanks Will over his lap. His claws tear at Will's underwear, making it fall in tatters, and he pulls it off. Will shivers at the show of strength, bracing himself on Hannibal's chest as Hannibal stares up at him, panting already.

Because of the way Hannibal's cock is shaped and how wet it is, and given how often they've done this, Will is confident he can take Hannibal without being stretched out or slicked first. And Hannibal doesn't seem in a patient mood today. Will wraps his fingers around the very tip of Hannibal's cock, coating them, and reaches behind himself to smear slick on his hole, as Hannibal snarls and flattens his hands on Will's thighs.

Will moves forward, and angles Hannibal to push into him. The tip slides in easily, and then those _wonderful_ little bumps that send electric shocks up Will's spine, as he sinks down, gradually taking more and more. The swollen knot-like base is difficult, but he takes that too, sinking down all the way with a heavy sigh as he settles in Hannibal's lap.

Hannibal pets him, claws catching on Will's hips, up his flanks, down his thighs. Will smiles at him, leaning down and cupping his face, tilting his head for a kiss as Hannibal squeezes his ass and makes him rock on top of Hannibal, flared base and bumps along his cock finding every sensitive place inside Will and pushing at them mercilessly.

Will moans, closing his eyes and letting his forehead rest on Hannibal's shoulder as Hannibal moves him how he likes. He tightens himself as best he can, until Hannibal's throat clenches with a feverish rumble. Will reaches above their heads, curling his fingers around the edge of his mattress and holding on tightly.

"Feel good, sweetheart?" he rasps, nipping at the damp skin below Hannibal's ear. Hannibal turns his head and kisses him in answer, and grabs the back of Will's neck, holding him close as Hannibal starts to thrust in earnest. The widest part of his cock slips out of Will and sinks back in, Will so wet that it makes a slick sound every time. It's perfectly shaped to get Will's prostate when he's all the way in, soft barbs on his cock dragging over that spot and teasing his rim. Hannibal's other arm pins Will at the waist, forcing their bodies together as tight as possible.

Will kisses him breathlessly, rubbing his forehead and cheek against Hannibal's whenever he needs air. He knows Hannibal likes it when he does that – beneath his fancy suits and fluency in four languages and Goddamn doctorate, Hannibal is an animal, and when Will behaves like one, he can't help reacting in kind.

Hannibal bites Will, hard, on the jaw, fangs catching on his skin. Will moans for it, shoulders tense as he ruts his cock against Hannibal's belly, chasing the friction as he's slowly, mercilessly, pulled apart and plugged back up.

" _Fuck_ ," he whispers, as Hannibal's claws sink into the nape of his neck and around his waist. " _Good_ boy, that's it, just like that."

Hannibal purrs for him, fiercely, eyes narrowed to slits and all black. He kisses Will again, trembling, his tail brushing and curling over Will's back. Will gasps, arching up to get the best angle, sits heavy on Hannibal's cock and ruts as he feels the tension in his stomach build, and build, and abruptly sink down.

Hannibal comes when he does, snapping his teeth around Will's collarbone as he squeezes Will's nape and ruts as deep into him as he can. His ears flatten and Will cups his skull and kisses the velvet-soft base, nuzzling Hannibal's sweat-damp hair as Hannibal hisses and grinds his way through his orgasm. Will's cock softens in his own mess, and he knows Hannibal will want to groom himself before long, but for now they can settle, basking in the afterglow.

Will smiles down at him, and kisses his forehead, closing his eyes with a sated sigh. "Good morning to you, too."

Hannibal rumbles quietly, smoothing his hands down Will's back. He sits up, forcing Will to settle in his lap, rough tongue licking over the bite he left on Will's collarbone, up his neck to the smarting pain in his jaw. Will's facial hair will hide the worst of it, and even then he's not all that worried. Cats and dogs scratch; that's inevitable.

Will holds him tightly, for a moment overwhelmed with affection and glad that Hannibal came running to him in the middle of the night. He kisses Hannibal's cheek and rises off him, grimacing at the small, stinging stretch, and then the thick river of come that leaks out of him once he's no longer in Hannibal's lap.

Hannibal's nostrils flare wide, eyes dark. He leans over Will, pinning him on his back, and laps at Will's neck like a kitten at milk, trembling finely, tail and arms wrapped around Will. They're both sweaty and it's far too warm, but Will has grown to enjoy how tactile Hannibal is with him.

Hannibal sighs, a moment later, and moves back, stretching in a long, sinuous curve, as he licks at his hands and begins to meticulously groom his hair, and ears, and the clumps of come Will left in his fur. Will grins, and kisses his forehead again, rising to his feet and finding another pair of underwear to put on so he can let the dogs out.

He leaves the door slightly open so they can come back when they want to, and returns to the bed as Hannibal blinks up at him. Hannibal smiles, and leans up so he can nuzzle Will's neck, purring happily. "That's better," he says quietly. "You smell much better after I've touched you."

Will laughs. "You're biased," he says.

"Biased, and correct," Hannibal replies.

Will hums, and lays down beside him, correcting a stray piece of hair that had fallen in Hannibal's eyes. "When does Jack want you to start?" he asks.

"Today, I believe," Hannibal replies. Will frowns, biting back the annoyed noise he wants to make. "I don't have any scheduled appointments," he adds. "It's no trouble."

"I know," Will sighs. "Maybe I'll get over the guilt eventually."

"Guilt?"

"You wouldn't be doing it if you didn't know me."

Hannibal considers that, and then frowns, rolling onto his side. "But if I didn't know you, then I wouldn't know you," he says, touching Will's warm cheek. And maybe it's as simple as that, for him. Will doesn't know if there have been any studies about the complexity of hybrid emotions, if they react to and think about things the same way humans do.

Maybe the pleasure of knowing Will is enough for discomforts. It sounds dangerously close to love. The human kind.

Will smiles, and turns his head so he can kiss Hannibal's palm. "I want you to promise me, the minute you don't want to anymore, you'll step back, okay?" Hannibal tilts his head. "I mean it. No 'suffering in silence' shit. The _second_ you want to stop playing, you stop."

Hannibal smiles at him. "You're protective of me," he purrs.

"Of course I am," Will says. "You're mine."

Hannibal's ears swivel forward at that, his eyes brightening and showing amber. His tail vibrates violently, and wraps around Will's waist. "I am," he says, almost too quietly to hear. "I am," he says again, and leans in, pulling Will into a kiss that makes Will's lungs burn and every inch of him feel warm.

Will sighs, eyes heavy. He wants to sleep some more, but there's no rest for the wicked, and it's only a matter of time before -.

Ah. Jack's ringtone breaks the silence, and Will smiles when Hannibal's ears twitch towards it, huffing in displeasure at being interrupted.

"Duty calls," Will teases, and sits up. He holds out his hand. "You coming with me?"

Hannibal grins brightly, and nods, taking his hand and letting Will pull him to his feet. "Of course."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> /senses this will become a series  
> /sweats

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed it, darlings <3


End file.
